


TJ and Cyrus' Totally No Fun Club

by imtrashforliterallyeverything



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Some angst, Tooth achingly sweet fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-08-29 08:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imtrashforliterallyeverything/pseuds/imtrashforliterallyeverything
Summary: Cyrus' life seems colorless and boring. His best friends are in a band that's about to start playing shows, getting into relationships, traveling with their families, and living the best lives kids their age ever could, and Cyrus begins feeling left behind.Soon, a new boy moves in across the street and peaks Cyrus’ interest when he breaks into Cyrus’ room to take him on an adventure.When Cyrus’ mother learns that this kid might be rolling with the wrong crowds, she decides that it’s best that the two of them stop hanging out, and encourages Cyrus to try a new school club to occupy his time.Determined to remain friends, Cyrus and the new boy, TJ, create their own club called TJ and Cyrus’ Totally No Fun Club, an undercover tutor club, where they actually go on adventures, get into some not too troublesome trouble, and fall in love.





	1. The New Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus meets the kid who moves in across the street, at first he seems like a bully rolling with the wrong crowd, but after they meet, Cyrus inst so sure actually a bad guy.

Cyrus sat at the kitchen table with his hands in his lap, squeezing them until his knuckles were white. His mother placed a kiss on the top of his head as she slid over one sloshing bowl of oatmeal. His favorite breakfast. Milky oatmeal, with sugar on top and strawberries arranged into a smiley face, only today it was flavorless and the berries sunk into the oats until there was no more smiling. Somehow, every single day, the breakfast became less and less appetizing, and not because his mother wasn’t good at making it. People from all over the neighborhood would come to his house just for breakfast just to taste Leslie Goodman’s oatmeal. He just wanted something exciting, like pancakes or a milkshake. 

Cyrus took a couple bites of the breakfast before dumping it and forcing a smile. His four therapist parents knew something was up, but Cyrus himself wasn’t sure how to explain his feelings. He had best friends who loved him, two parents and two step parents who cared for him, grandmothers who adored him, yet something was off. Life was simple. Unexciting, boring, mediocre, and all the rest of the synonyms. 

He could sit in his room for hours, recounting the day, and no matter the adventures he had, it seemed so mundane. It was almost like he’d been missing something, searching for this hidden puzzle piece for the last few months. The world was colored grey and Cyrus anxiously awaited until it’s full vibrancy was restored. 

As Cyrus trudged upstairs, the heavy footsteps of a worried mother haunted behind him, and once his feet caught the landing, he turned around to face the woman. Her eyes were tender and full of worry, with a golden inkling of hope ringing around the abyss of her pupils. People always said Cyrus had his mothers eyes, and he used to believe them, but now he wasn’t sure. Her eyes held the secret of former adventures, Cyrus didn’t have any adventures to hide behind his eyes.

“Cyrus,” She said in a voice that was uniquely just for him, so full of love and adoration, warm enough to grab his attention, but strong enough to overpower any argument he had against her. She was aging and he could see it. Wrinkles from years of smiling were stacked like folded cloth on the corners of her mouth and lines etched across her forehead, like a picket fence of her career. He wondered how someone could simultaneously smile and worry so much in just one lifetime. 

“Cyrus, if you need extra appointments with Dr. Murphy, just tell me and we’ll get you scheduled.” Leslie said as she reached up to cup her son's cheeks.

“You know, you’re growing up so fast. It makes you wonder how time even has the ability to pass so quickly.” 

Cyrus’ face heated under the growing up comments, and all he wanted to do was yank away and scurry into his room, yet he knew his mother had intentions of love only.  
“Mom, I’m fine! Nothing to worry about, but I have to go.” Cyrus told her as he reached down to kiss her cheek. She smiled softly, straightening out the collar of his shirt.

As Cyrus stepped into his room, he grabbed his backpack from his unmade bed. He always made his bed, but today, he turned away from it in betrayal and closed the door behind him. It felt exhilarating. He wondered if the knot in his stomach was one of excitement or guilt, for leaving his bed in shambles.

Cyrus headed outside, and began waiting on the edge of his driveway, plopping down beside a flower box garden full of bright yellow daffodils. He plucked one and ripped the small fleshy petals from their center and let them fly into the breeze like birds migrating for the winter.   
“Is that for me?” A bright voice chirped from behind him. Cyrus turned to face Jonah and smiled a little.

“I mean, if you want a petalless daffodil, then it's all yours.” He teased. Cyrus clamored to his feet and the two of them began walking side by side. Jonah had made it a tradition to walk Cyrus to school every morning, and since he was already on his way, Cyrus obliged. Of course, a couple months ago, Cyrus had thought this was the closest thing to walking into Jefferson Middle with a celebrity. During that time, Cyrus had decided that Jonah was his first ever crush, which should’ve been an honor, but he was too afraid to tell him. Cyrus knew Jonah would be flattered, and not grossed out, but there were still pebbles of doubt weighing in his stomach when he thought about telling him. 

Jonah was easy to like, and at some point, the entirety of his friend group had a crush on him at some time or another. Crushing on Jonah was like eating rainbow sherbert in the sweaty middle of a blazing July, the perfect refresher. His smile could’ve been seen for miles and miles and his dimples were deep as caverns. Jonah was as close as a human could get to a vibrant afternoon, echoes of laughter and joy followed him wherever. 

“Have you been knitting recently?” Jonah asked after a long groaning silence.

Cyrus almost hadn’t realized he’d been completely lost in thought until Jonah brought him back to reality. He shook his head and tightened his fingers on his backpack. 

“No, actually. I haven’t been knitting for days.” 

Jonah stopped in his tracks, beaming. He rested a hand on Cyrus’s shoulder. “That’s amazing! So you’re feeling better?” 

Cyrus laughed half heartedly, trying shake the creases from his forehead. “No, I’m the same, worrying the same, sad the same, I just haven’t been knitting.” 

Jonah continued their walking pace and frowned. “Have you found a different something else to do then?” 

Cyrus shook his head again, but this time he didn’t speak.   
“You know, Cyrus, you have to find a way to use all your negative energy. Like, my music, the band, writing lyrics. That all works for me, and if I didn’t do all that, then i think my anxiety would be a gazillion times worse.” Jonah seemed to realize that his helpful words weren’t actually helping, and pulled back. 

“You’re talking like I don’t have four therapist parents.” Cyrus said, chuckling a little.

“It’s alright, Cy-guy! You’ll find something that works for you, man.” He nudged Cyrus in the shoulder before walking off to meet his younger sister by the bus drop off. 

Cyrus continued his day, eating lunch with his two best friends, Buffy and Andi, and taking all his classes. He saw acquaintances in passing, and waved hello, and put on a smile all day.

While Cyrus went to wait for his ride, he scanned faces for a friendly one, but he didn’t see many. As he searched for Buffy in her usual seat on by the biggest bush on the left of the school, someone shoved him hard from behind, making him topple down the last new steps.   
When he gathered himself off the floor, he had a brand new shining scrap on his chin and a racing heart. Normally, Cyrus would’ve taken it, but he’d been pushed too far. Literally. 

Cyrus reared around blazing. “Pardon me, but which one of you just did that?” A handful of guys stood all around laughing, all of them much taller than Cyrus. Some of them were in basketball jerseys, and other were in skinny jeans. 

“He did it,” A thin boy with bright hair smirked as he pointed to a different boy, who Cyrus had never seen. 

Ah yes, this was the infamous posse of stoners and basketball boys, two cliques that somehow managed to bleed into each other, and he knew all of them, except for the one. The one Cyrus didn’t recognize was the tallest of them all, dirty blond hair, bright green eyes hidden under a cloud of what Cyrus presumed was shame. He didn’t say anything. The other boys laughed and shook him playfully. 

“Why don’t you scram, loser.” One boy with these absolutely heinous frosted tips snarked. He went back to laughing with the others. 

The new guy only half laughed, but half a laugh was enough. Cyrus turned away and stormed down the steps. 

Buffy was sitting beside Marty near her spot. They were have a quiet exuberant exchange, which, Cyrus would usually call viciously flirting, but his head would be mounted on a stake and hung over Buffy’s fireplace if he ever said it outloud. 

Finally, after enduring Buffy and Marty’s tireless exchange and Andi and Jonah’s sorry attempt at harmonizing, Marty’s father drove up in his big SUV and drove the kids back to his house.  
Marty’s father was the life of the party, and way cooler than any other adult he’d ever besides Andi’s parents. He had a huge garage that he let Marty and the rest of them use solely for their band. 

Marty’s father, Brian, had always claimed he won against Bowie in a battle of the bands when they were sophomores in high school, but Cyrus had heard Brain play bass guitar first hand and unless he slipped a steep decline after turning forty, then he doubted the stories were true. Nonetheless, Marty’s house was always opened for a jam session. 

While Cyrus didn’t play any instruments, he always came to rehearsal because he didn’t want to feel left out. Andi had been taking keyboard lessons from the eighty year old former punk rocker in her apartment complex, and Buffy was a natural born drummer. A boy named Walker plucked the strings of his bass guitar while he bounced on the balls of his feet, and Jonah played guitar, played the roll of lead singer, he was the frontman of the band ‘October Otters’. 

Marty and Cyrus just sat on the couch and watched them play while Brian made veggie trays and gluten free cookies. Andi’s father, Bowie, stopped by once a week to help tweak their performances before the played at the Red Rooster on Thursdays. 

Cyrus wished he was musically inclined, but unfortunately, he was cursed with being rhythmically challenged. He discovered it when Buffy have him a shaker and a tambourine and he could master neither. 

Marty, who was sitting beside him on the old stain painted couch, nudged Cyrus’ arm. “Well, do you?” He asked, his brow furrowed. 

Cyrus, suddenly realizing that he’d zoned out, tried his best to remember what Marty had been saying. “Do I what?” 

Marty whispered harshly, “Do you like her?” Jerking his head in the general direction of the band. 

“Andi?” Cyrus quirked an eyebrow, and gagged back a chuckle. 

Marty rolled his eyes playfully. “No, Cyrus. Buffy. Do you like Buffy? As more than a friend?”   
Cyrus really had to hold back a chuckle this time. He sucked a deep breath. “Nah, she’s, uhhh, she’s not really my type.” 

Marty nodded giddily, nearly bouncing on the sofa cousin beside him. “I think I’m gonna do it, my good man. I’m gonna ask Buffy Driscoll out.”

Cyrus decided he didn’t want to spend the time explaining that relationships weren't usually Buffy’s thing.   
Rehearsal seemed to drag on, because Walker and Andi couldn’t seem to match the bass and keyboard lines to each other, so Cyrus decided to call it a day. He said his goodbyes and trudged home alone. 

Usually, he’d leave with all of his friends, eventually all of them dwlingding off when they came to the forks in the road, but this time, he was alone, kicking stones and singing softly to himself. He wished he could sing desperately. Once Jonah tried to teach him, but he couldn’t hit a single note. 

When Cyrus turned onto his street, he noticed a large UHaul full of furniture and boxes. His mother and stepfather were helping unload boxes and carry them inside. She waved at Cyrus while balancing a couple smaller shoe boxes stacked on top of each other. 

“Cyrus! Go grab that pie from our kitchen counter and bring it inside to our new neighbors!” 

Cyrus smiled to himself. His mother always got so excited when new people moved in across their street. New victims for her book club and pie parties.

He slung his backpack onto the dining room table and grabbed the gleaming cherry pie from the counter and carried it like it was a newborn baby. Cyrus made sure he looked both ways before he crossed the street, doing his best as to not catch his feet in the cracks and strode up the winding driveway. 

Cyrus was just about to step past the threshold when he slammed into someone, the pie wobbling. As soon as his eyes met the person before him, he crumbled a little bit. The new boy. The new bully. 

A woman popped up from behind the boy, and she beamed. She looked youthful, with golden blonde hair and bright shimmering green eyes. “You must be Cyrus! Come on in.” 

 

“Oh,” Cyrus started. “No, it's okay.” 

The woman laughed. “You’re kidding? I’m insisting. Help yourself to the stew inside! Those nice wives from a street up made it and it’s delish. I’m Kate Kippen.” She winked at Cyrus and ruffled her sons hair. 

Cyrus met the eyes of the boy before him briefly before looking down to his shoes and stepping inside. Their shoulders brushed on the crossways and Cyrus did his best not to jump. So, the boy across the street, brand new kid, already befriending the bullies, tripping Cyrus and laughing at him. And the audacity to be cute too? He almost wanted to throw up, and he certainly didn’t want stew.

“TJ!” A girl zoomed past him, roaring. “Are you kidding me? You slammed down my fragile box and all this makeup is completely crumbled.”   
The boy, TJ, pouted mockingly as the girl stormed up stairs. “You’re just going to have to go to school without makeup. Be careful not to startle anyone though, bet they don’t expect the new girl to be a troll.” 

The girl stopped in her tracks on the steps and turned slowly, face completely blank. Cyrus tensed, ready for an explosion but, instead, the girl doubled over laughing.   
TJ laughed too, his cheeks flushing pink.

“At least I still have something to work with, you look like you crawled out of a swamp.” The girl snorted. She tucked a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear.

“Okay, okay,” TJ raised his hands in mock surrender. “Point Amber. But I’ll get you next time.”

TJ turned back to Cyrus jumped. “Forgot you were here for a second.” He chuckled embarrassed.

“Happens a lot,” Cyrus said as he looked around.

The house was beautiful, small and simple and clean. Blues and oranges were splattered throughout the house of almost completely white. The two of them, stuck in silence, eventually made it up to TJ’s new room.

TJ rubbed his neck and bounced on his toes, obviously uncomfortable. “About earlier, I’m sorry, Goodman.” 

Cyrus’ breath hitched. He’d almost forgotten about the incident, but now the scrape on his chin started to sting. Nobody had asked him about it. Not Buffy, Andi or even his mother. 

“Why did you trip me?” 

TJ raised a brow. “I didn’t. That one guy Reed did but, I assumed you knew he was joking when he blamed it on me.  
”   
Cyrus plopped down on the springy mattress that was TJ’s bed. “Those guys are bullies. You just start hanging out with them, and it seems like you are too.”

“Well,” TJ threw his arms opened and Cyrus sat up. “I’m stating it now. I’m not a bully.”   
Cyrus squinted, still unsure. He made his way to the window and gulped. “Hey look, clear shot of my window from here.” 

TJ grinned and all of a sudden, as if a lightbulb went off, he began to frantically rummage through a box of old trinkets buried under a collection of classic rock CDs and a couple broadway soundtracks. 

“Here,” TJ offered his hand out to Cyrus and placed one half of a walkie talkie in his palm.   
Cyrus laughed. “Seriously?”   
TJ shrugged. “Why not? I don’t have any friends around here anyway, and no offense but the coolest thing about this neighborhood so far, is the lesbians who made us stew.” 

“Don’t have any friends, huh? What about Reed and his posse?” Cyrus folded his arms.

“Seriously, dude? Reed and all them are so lame.” TJ turned on his walkie talkie and spoke into it. “Just give this thing a shot, maybe you’ll find out it’s better than you expected. Over.” He smiled with his eyes.

Cyrus rolled his eyes, but his heart was pounding. He turned on the walkie talkie, “You? Or this old thing? Over.” 

TJ was about to reply when Cyrus mother hollered from outside. 

“Cyrus! Let’s go!” 

Cyrus blushed sheepishly and brushed passed TJ. He ran down the stairs and stopped to catch his breath before opening the door and meeting his mother in the driveway. She threw her arm around him as they walked across the street back to Cyrus’s house. 

After dinner, Cyrus went upstairs to his room. He paced back and forth, fingers itching to pull down the blinds and take a peek at the window across the street. After battling with himself, he ultimately lost. Trudging to the window, he pulled down a panel of the blinds. The window directly across from him was lit up and curtainless.

Sitting on the sill was TJ, a big fat book in his hands, and dark rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. 

Cyrus turned around and checked his watch. He wondered how long it’d take himself to fall in love.


	2. The World from Google Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ and Cyrus’s new friendship begins blossoming as they spend more time together. TJ takes Cyrus on an unexpected adventure.

Cyrus had worn his fancy shoes that Tuesday. He would argue that it was for no specific reason, but deep inside, if there was one thing he could do right, it was dress to impress.

He waited for Jonah outside by the daffodils, but when the garage door opened from across the street, he stood suddenly. 

Kate and Amber pulled out of the garage and drove off, and moments later, TJ emerged too. 

“Cyrus!” He grinned as he jogged over. “Wanna walk with me?” 

Cyrus quirked a brow and made an effort to press down his growing smile. “Your mom doesn’t drive you? The high school is closer than Jefferson.”

“Oh,” TJ forced a laugh, “I just wanted to catch some fresh air today.” For some reason, Cyrus wasn’t exactly sure he was telling the full truth. 

TJ gestured to his side, “You coming?” 

Cyrus’ heart thumped as he looked over his shoulder. No one was coming over the hill and sure, he was tempted, but he made a promise to Jonah.

“I usually walk with my friend Jonah.” Cyrus sighed. 

TJ’s face fell slightly, but he shrugged it off, “See you around then, I guess.” He smiled in a tight lipped line and turned to walk. 

The two halves of Cyrus’s brain fought with each other. On one hand, he’d made a deal to walk with his friend, who was, by the way, seven and a half minutes late. On the other hand, the poor and lonely new kid was walking alone to school. 

Cyrus looked over his shoulder once more before jogging up to TJ. “Jonah can walk alone for one day, right?” 

TJ smiled and buried his hand into his pockets. The two of them talked the whole way to school, laughing, touching in the slightest of ways, but Cyrus was all too aware of every brush and nudge. He’d be so distracted by TJ that he’d completely forgotten about Jonah, who rode up to the two them, his skateboard wheels flashing with bright green lights. 

“Cyrus? Why didn’t you wait to walk with me?” Jonah asked. He didn’t seem hurt by it, he was smiling, but he was always smiling. 

Cyrus looked between TJ and Jonah nervously, “You were late, Jonah. We meet at my house at 6:53 sharp. And besides, TJ’s new, he didn’t have anyone to walk with.” 

“Cyrus, I’ve been eight minutes late every day for like four months.” Jonah said, poking fun. 

Cyrus fake laughed, attempting in total vein to hide the sudden heavy awkwardness. Now TJ knew he’d left early to walk alone with him. Dammit, somehow he always screwed up. As TJ and Jonah were introducing themselves, and getting along like a lizard and heat lamp, Cyrus snuck away. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“Cyrus!” Buffy called as she jogged up to him. 

“Oh,” Cyrus shook himself back to reality. “Hey, Buffy. What’s up?” 

Buffy shook her head, something obviously bothering her. “Marty asked me out.” She paused dramatically waiting for a reaction.

Cyrus giggled lightly. “Is that really such a bad thing, Buffy? You two get along great, and if you like him, then you should go for it.” 

Buffed groaned and threw her hands up to the sky. “I think I might like him, but I’m not so sure. I mean, who really needs to be in a relationship in eighth grade? It’s totally pointless.” 

“So tell him no.” Cyrus suggested. 

“See,” Buffy turned to Cyrus, “It’s not as simple as that. What if decide I do want to go out with him, later, or some other time?” 

Cyrus laughed. “Buffy, you don’t usually over think these things… you sure you’re okay?” 

Buffy stopped dead in her tracks. “Does the fact that I’m over thinking it mean I really do like him?” 

Cyrus shrugged. “I overthink everything so the idea isn’t so far fetched for me.” Buffy laughed at that before diverging off to her next class. 

At lunch, Buffy went to talk with Marty, though Cyrus wasn’t sure if she’d made a final decision yet, so he and Andi found themselves a table with Walker and sat down. 

Walker mumbled to himself while he plugged his ears. His eyes were shut tight, and Cyrus was worried he was having a breakdown. 

“What’s up with him?” He asked, leaning over to Andi. 

She shook her head and swallowed a bite of her sandwich, “His summer art school application project is due in a week and he still hasn’t started. Something about his creative juices being ‘as plentiful as a Pepsi in the Sahara’,”

Cyrus nodded as if he too was creative.

“I got it!” Walker yelled as he stood up. “Pomegranate seeds!” 

Andi and Cyrus exchanged looks, holding back their giggles, but eventually sputtering into a hurricane of laughter. 

“No time to explain!” Walker said as he scooped up his backpack and took off. 

“Well that was certainly entertaining.” Cyrus said in amusement.

Andi sighed and offered Cyrus a bite on her apple, and he obliged. “Artists.” 

“What are we talking about?” TJ boomed as he flung himself down beside Cyrus, sitting all too close.

“We were just talking about pomegranate seeds.” Cyrus said casually. 

TJ nodded, as if he was interested at all. “Okay, so I was getting a snack out of the vending machine and an extra pack of nutter butters came out. Thought you might like it.” He waved the bar before placing it in the pocket of Cyrus's backpack. 

“Ayye!” A snap of a voice called from behind him. TJ turned around to face the gaggle of boys slowly stampeding their way around a couple poor seventh graders. “Teej! My man,” 

“Oh, no,” Cyrus whispered. Andi made eye contact with Cyrus and raised a brow before sneaking off. 

“Buddy,” Reed said excitedly as he took a seat on the table, nearly crushing Cyrus's juicebox, which he'd swiped just in time. “You’re not gonna eat lunch with your friends?”

TJ met Cyrus’s eyes shyly. “I’m already sitting with my friends.” TJ gestured to where Andi was sitting, before he realized she’d left. “I mean, my friend.” 

Reed raised a brow and whispered something to boy with dark shaggy hair, before turning back. “You’re really trying to get yourself labeled a loser, huh?”

Cyrus looked to TJ, anxious for his reply. 

“Who says we can’t all be friends, man. You never know who’s actually cool until you get to know them.” TJ replied in a smooth sounding voice.

Reed and the other boys nodded. “Mad respect, man. You guys should hang with us soon.” Reed turned to Cyrus. “And who knows, maybe you're not a loser after all. It’d be sick if we all got to know each other a little.” 

TJ flashed his teeth in a bright smile, “That’d be great, dude. See you around?” 

Reed tipped his head in a nod goodbye as he and his friends retreated. 

TJ and Cyrus walked home together, skipping band rehearsal and a ride with Marty’s father. When they got to their street, the two of them parted ways. Cyrus practically skipped into his house. 

“Someone’s in a cheery mood,” Leslie smiled and offered out a tray of delectable baked goods. “Cookies?” 

Cyrus obliged and sat down on one of the bar stools lining the island that was packed with trays of different kinds of cookies, cupcakes, pies and other pastries. She always baked for the whole week, making some for her clients, book club, and neighbors. Of course, she always saved some for Cyrus. 

“So tell me,” Leslie leaned on the counter across from him, chin in her hands. “Why are you so bouncy all of a sudden?” 

Cyrus smiled to himself. “No reason.” 

“Oh? No reason? No reason at all? Are you sure it doesn’t happen to have anything to do with those cute little Kippin twins across the street?” His mother teased. 

Cyrus giggled. “I don’t know,” He thought about it for a second, “Maayyybe,”

“Yeah?” Leslie bit off a bite of cookie. “Tell me about it. Amber’s pretty cute right?”

Cyrus smiled softly and took a sip of the milk his mother had just poured him, his best attempt of distracting himself from the conversation. 

“TJ’s cute too.” Leslie said in a sing songy voice.

Cyrus just about choked on his milk at that, sputtering. “Mom!” 

“What?” She asked innocently, a little smirk on the corner of her mouth.

“I’m going to my room and this conversation is over,” Cyrus said as he swiped another cookie. He grinned at his mother before scampering off into his room, as he went his mother giggled. 

Hours and hours had past and the lateness of the night was becoming real. His mother and stepfather had fallen fast asleep barely after eight o’clock, so Cyrus had spent hours watching movies and catching up on homework in his room alone. 

It was just about half past midnight when the crackle of the walkie talkie sitting on the edge of his nightstand began rustling. The static of it was enough to jolt Cyrus out of his half asleep state, and he paused his movie. 

“TJ? Over.” Cyrus whispered into the gadget.  
A few seconds of static went by before he finally got a reply. “Unlock your window. Over.” 

Frantically Cyrus combed his hair with his fingers and straightened his t-shirt and pajama bottoms. A hundred little Snoopys in santa hats patterned his pants in the utmost embarrassing fashion. Finally, Cyrus drew his blinds and unlocked his window, and in climbed none other than his very own boy across the street.

“TJ,” Cyrus said breathlessly, just realizing how much effort he put into combing his hair. “What are you doing here?” 

“We,” TJ gestured with a sly smile etched onto his lips, “Are going on an adventure.” 

Cyrus stepped back in surprise, his stomach twisting. “Um, I think you have the wrong house. The bat beep crazy kid lives two doors down.” 

TJ invited himself though the window and plopped on the sill. He quirked his head to the side and twisted his mouth into a sharp purse. Cyrus gulped. “Did you just bleep your own words out loud?” 

Cyrus could feel himself sweating. “Possibly. It may be something I’ve been known to do, due to my mother’s strict no potty language inside the house policy.”

TJ laughed as if Cyrus had come up with world’s funniest joke. His eyes glimmered like he was staring at a sky full of bursting fireworks, but instead he was staring at Cyrus, simple, boring little Cyrus. Right? “That the goddamn cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” He said, his voice slipping higher in a pitch someone would use to brag about their cat. 

Now Cyrus’s heart was really pouding. 

“But seriously, we have to go before my mom wakes up.” TJ whispered. 

Cyrus remained with his feet planted, the hesitance in his eyes was clear as glass. 

“Do you trust me, Cyrus?” TJ asked. 

Cyrus met his eyes. “I’m not sure yet. But here’s to finding out.” He cheered with his glass of tap water and gulped it down before he threw on a jacket and followed the blond boy out his window.

TJ wheeled over the shiny red moped he’d parked under his tree. “Hop on,” He whispered as he offered Cyrus his helmet. Safety first. 

“Is this yours?” Cyrus asked while he drug a finger over one of the handlebars. 

TJ shook his head and climbed on, “It was my dad’s, but he never used it. I’m technically not supposed to use it on my own, but I’ve done it plenty of times. My mom doesn't really mind as long a I'm careful.”

Cyrus hesitantly climbed onto the back of the bike, wrapping his arms carefully around TJ’s waist, hoping he wasn’t pressing too hard, or being too soft. 

“Ready?” TJ asked, looking over his shoulder. 

Cyrus really wasn’t sure if he was ready, but his tongue wouldn’t allow him to say no. Instead, his hands bunched tight around TJ’s jacket. 

TJ chuckled a little and offered Cyrus his earbuds and Ipod, before he kicked up the stand and started off. 

Cyrus couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with all the things happening. The world hadn’t looked this new for as long as he could remember. Everything looked different at midnight, a whole potential of nocturnal human life had been completely wasted by nine to five day jobs and the curse sunlight. 

The song playing in his earbuds was one that Cyrus had never heard before, somehow teetering the edge between hard and soft, but it was his new favorite song. The lights from the city they zoomed through blurred behind him as if someone had painted them in acrylic and then spilled a glass of water over their work.

Cyrus’s skin bubbled with goosebumps, but he wasn’t sure if it was the icy winds fault, or his arms around TJ’s torso. The warm and the cold contrasted so heavily, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover. 

TJ diverged from the road, following up a dirt path until he finally drove up a hill and stopped suddenly. He hopped off the bike and encouraged Cyrus to do the same. Cyrus hung the helmet on the handlebar and walked over to where TJ was standing. 

Cyrus, confused at first, was about to ask where they were, when he stopped all of a sudden. The view before him was unlike any other he’d seen. 

The two of them stood on the edge of an almost cliff that overlooked the city, bright spots of light flickered throughout. It reminded Cyrus of when he was little, he’d run through a meadow, and fireflies would explode out of the grass, twisting into the sky like a brand new layer of stars. 

“I’ve lived here my entire life, and I’ve never seen this.” Cyrus breathed, searching in veins of the city for tiny people and zooming cars, and his favorite grocery store.

“Cyrus,” TJ began, “It seems like you look at the world from Google Maps street view. Sometimes you gotta look at it from Google Earth.” 

Cyrus wanted to laugh, somehow that made the more sense to him than anything a therapist, or a parent had ever told him.  
“And you look at the world from Google Earth?” Cyrus asked, scanning TJ’s face. He still watched the city, his hands digging in his jacket pockets. 

He nodded. “I think I see it from both. Sure, the little things are important, but you have to see the big picture too. Like, look at all those lights. Every single one represents a person. They all have stuff. Even I have stuff.” 

“I think I have stuff, too.” Cyrus turned back to the view, taking it all in. He thought if it was day time, he’d be able to see across the world. 

TJ huffed with a smile. “Makes you think, how big is all the stuff, really? If we’re really that small, maybe our stuff is too.” 

Cyrus raised his eyebrows. Maybe he was right. “And to think, I thought you were just gonna be some dumb jock.” 

“Maybe I am,” TJ teased. “You don’t know all my stuff.” 

Cyrus sighed. Isn’t that the truth.


	3. The October Otters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus' friends are suspicious about how much time he's spending with TJ. TJ invites him on a totally not concert date.

The morning that followed TJ and Cyrus’ midnight escapade felt like it didn’t belong in reality. Cyrus’ oatmeal was delicious, and his fancy shoes didn’t pinch his toes. On top of all that, TJ and Jonah walked with Cyrus to school, and decided that the day was going to be one for the books. And by books, he meant his diary. 

He could barely wait to tell Andi and Buffy. They’d freak. TJ, the cool new jock guy, breaking into Cyrus’ room to steal him off for a middle of the night adventure? It was the stuff of stories. He searched the pool of middle schoolers teeming in the halls until he finally found Buffy and Andi waiting by the water fountains outside of the girls bathroom. Cyrus had texted them excitedly announcing that he had news to share, the minute he got home the night prior.

“What’s the news, Cyrus?” Buffy asked excitedly about a second and a half after laying her eyes on him. 

Cyrus waited for a beat, for the dramatics. 

“Well don’t say it all at once,” Andi said anxiously. 

Cyrus sucked in a breath, his growing smile and newly painted blush obviously. “Last night, TJ Kippen climbed through my window and took me out.” 

“With what?” Buffy asked, leaning in. “A baseball bat?” 

Cyrus laughed. “Not that kind of take me out, Buff. He took me out, like, on his moped, to see the city lights.”

“Shut up!” Andi squealed. 

Cyrus shook his head, suddenly somber. “I just,” he paused for a sigh. “I just don’t what it means.” 

“Maybe he likes you,” Andi suggested, taking Cyrus’ hand in her, squeezing it supportively. 

Buffy nodded, but her expression was incredulous. “Could be, and let’s hope that’s the case, because it’s what you deserve, Cy..” She said. “But he could also still just be a mean old bully. We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves here.” 

Cyrus huffed, “You always lift my spirits, Buffy.” 

She tipped her head, suddenly realizing that her words probably weren’t what he needed to hear. “I’m sorry, Cyrus. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“He’s not a bad guy, though. He seems tough, but he’s actually really, really...really sweet.” Cyrus droned off, his cheeks catching flames again. 

As Cyrus finished gushing, he looked over his shoulder, a sudden slam startling him. One of Reed’s goons had grabbed Gus, a mousy looking red head, and slammed him up against a locker. Gus shrieked, his voice cracked. 

In further investigation, Cyrus realized Reed and all of his gang were there, laughing at Gus. Mr. Frosted Tip’s grabbed his glasses and tried them on, modeling a pair of crossed eyes and fake buck teeth. Reed was there too, laughing, but as soon as his eyes found Cyrus, his face turned serious. 

“You guys,” Reed roared, an expression of concern falling over him. “Leave the poor kid alone.” 

Gus, looking as surprised as Cyrus felt, was suddenly dropped to his feet, the rest of the boys confusion settling in. The all murmured and shrugged before walking off. 

Reed brushed off his shirt, handed him his glasses, and gave him a push in the right direction. “Keep up the good work, Gary! You’ll do great things.” 

“You know,” Cyrus approached. “His name is Gus.” 

Reed laughed, “It’s a little game we like to play. Love that guy, don’t you?” Reed must’ve been one hell of an actor, because Cyrus couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. 

“So,” Reed said, gripping backpack strap, leaning on one shoulder against the locker. “You and your boyfriend are hanging with us this week.” 

Cyrus didn’t know if he’d ever blushed so much in the span of ten minutes, as he had on that day. “TJ, is not my boyfriend. And, I suppose if the invitation is still available, it might not hurt to give it a try.” 

Reed grinned, slapping Cyrus on the shoulder. “That’s the attitude, my dude.” He finger gunned as he walked away. 

Cyrus turned back to Buffy and Andi who were watching in amusement. “Don’t say anything.”

“Oh,” Buffy started, already gesturing with her arms. “I’m sayin’ something. Because we are not just to, one, skim over the fact that Reed thought TJ Kippen was your boyfriend, and two, that he invited you to hang out? The meanest, jerkface in this school? And you said yes.” 

“One,” Cyrus replied. “He was joking about the boyfriend thing, and two, maybe he’s not that bad. He defended Gus and he’s TJ’s friend, so, I guess he could be my friend too.”

“I’m just saying you should watch out, Cy.” Buffy reasoned. 

“Yeah,” Andi added, “Of course we want you to take the opportunity to hang out with the cool kids. But those aren’t the cool kids. They’re the bad kids. And, instead of trusting their character based off of TJ’s opinion, maybe you should be thinking about TJ’s character. Because if he thinks they’re okay, then maybe he isn’t either.”

Cyrus sighed sadly, Buffy and Andi wrapping their arms around him. “We just want to protect you, Cyrus.” Buffy leaned her head against his. 

“Because we love you, and we’re your best friends,” Andi said.

But Cyrus knew TJ, and he trusted TJ, even if he had just met him days ago. His friends were so used to him living inside the box. It was time to show them he could break out of it too.

\---

The day dagged on far too long for TJ’s liking, he slouched in his seat, tapping a pencil on the corner of his desk. Math class was his least favorite class by far, falling just below nails on a chalkboard for three hours straight class, and straight torture class. The only thing good about the class was the fact that Cyrus was in it. 

A girl at the very front and middle of the class, raised her hand to Mr. Nelson’s question. She raised her hand at every question, and it was starting to get annoying. He knew that she was Cyrus’ friend, because he’d seen them hanging around, but he’d never been formally introduced. He didn’t want to hate her too much, but only because of Cyrus. 

It had felt like hours passed, but when TJ looked at the clock, it had been a measly six minutes. TJ found his eyes wondering to Cyrus every so often. He sat in the middle row, all the way by the window, listening carefully, studying hard. The sunlight illuminated his profile, like line workings of golden ink. The dust in the air floated around him like he was in a sea of tiny little bubbles. TJ’s chest panged when Cyrus turned to look at the board, the sunlight catching in his eyelashes, and making the deep brown of his eyes turn to amber. 

TJ opened his notebook, and pretended to listen to Mr. Nelson. He flipped to the back page, carefully studying Cyrus, and started drawing him. TJ’s family always told him he was good at art, but he’d been a rut, lately. No muse. He began, carefully lining the dip in his nose, and the curls in his hair, his furrowed brow, his pursed lips. He was all enthralled, his heart racing faster with ever freckle he dotted and every hair he drew. 

“Mr. Kippen,” A deep voice called from the front of the class. “Are we having an issue with your hearing?” 

TJ looked up from his paper and closed the book suddenly, realizing just then that he was being spoken to. “No, Mr. Nelson.” 

“Then I don’t suppose you’ll have any issues giving me an answer.” 

TJ’s eyes scanned the class, Buffy, Cyrus’ friend, scowled at him, and Cyrus watched him supportively. “42, Mr. Nelson.” 

The teacher sighed. “Where did you come up with that answer?” 

TJ smirked, “42, the answer to life, the universe, and everything. ‘Everything’ includes whatever you’ve talking about for the last, oh look,” TJ looked at his phone clock, “42 minutes. Ironic.” 

Mr. Nelson folded his hands over his front. “I’m going to let you off the hook this time, since it’s only your third day, but talk back to me again and you’re in a big heaping mess of trouble young man. The answer I was looking for was 9,768.” Damn, not even close.

Cyrus smiled at TJ briefly, and he fluttered. Math class sucked toe, but maybe it wasn’t as horrific as he thought it’d be. 

Later that day, after talking to a couple of his new acquaintances, he discovered a local band concert was playing at the record store a few streets away from his house. This was the perfect opportunity to invite Cyrus to do something with him again. The previous night had been an irrational, spur of the moment decision, but he was glad he’d made it. TJ wasn’t sure he’d even seen someone’s eyes sparkle they way Cyrus’ did when he overlooked the city. If TJ could make Cyrus look that way again, he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop searching for ways to do it.

TJ spotted Cyrus across from the hall, and his stomach nearly leapt in his throat. People always assumed that he was a straight as line, possibly because of his jock status or inability to dress well, but TJ, and his mom and sister, knew otherwise. He was ten when he had his first crush on another boy, and ever since, he knew that he could never fall in love with a girl the way his father, or cousin, or friends could. 

If only he was sure about Cyrus. Sure, he seemed to be more nervous around him, but if he was honest with himself, TJ knew that he had come across as a jerk before. And besides, Cyrus seemed nervous around everyone. 

He sighed. It was worth a shot. 

TJ gained the courage to approach Cyrus and when he did, the smaller boy lit up. TJ swayed. “Hey, so there’s this band playing at the the Red Rooster tonight, the October Otters or something. Wanna go with me?” 

Cyrus laughed and suddenly TJ was insecure. Had he blown it? Had he creeped him out? His mind raced until Cyrus touched his shoulder, and the universe seemed to rush back in to a close focus on Cyrus. 

“That’s Buffy, Andi, and Jonah’s band! I was going to ask you to come with me.” He smiled the most adorable blushy smile. His face looked soft and TJ wanted to touch it, but eventually decided it wasn’t the time or place. 

TJ forced a laugh, recovering from his scare, and covering up his sudden heartbeat increase. “So it’s a date then?” 

Cyrus gulped visibly, and TJ smiled to himself. “I suppose it is! Pick me up at seven? Don’t be late.” Cyrus winked. 

TJ watched him turn around to go, and somehow, in that moment, he realized he might never be the same.

\----

Cyrus and his mother had spent two hours searching for an outfit that was perfect. He thought there had to be some sort of happy middle between sophisticated and super cool concert dude, but the mission seemed to be in vein. 

“You know I love your affinity for a nice looking outfit, but can you tell me why you must stand in front of a mirror for hours choosing between three shirts?” 

Cyrus shot her a look, his cheeks growing red. His mother came up from behind him and rested her chin his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. 

“Mom,” Cyrus said, his voice was barely a whimper. 

Leslie giggled, looking at her sons face in the mirror. Cyrus’ heart squeezed. “It’s okay, baby. He’s pretty cute.” 

Cyrus turned around a hugged her, trying his best not to cry. “I love you, mom.” He whispered. 

Leslie pulled back and cleared her throat. “You know what I love?” She held up a hanger with a navy blue collared shirt with spots on it and gave it a little shake. “I love this, and I think you should be over and done with this shirt choosing process because you’ll be late for your date.” 

Cyrus chuckled. “It’s totally not a date, mom.” 

Leslie turned to look over her shoulder as she left his room. “Sure thing, sweetie.” She winked. 

Cyrus turned back to his reflection. The blue shirt did make him look good...the perfect cross between sophisticated and super cool concert dude.

Later, at approximately 6:55, the doorbell rang and Cyrus scattered frantically, combing back his hair for a third time, before he raced downstairs and swung the door opened. As soon as he did, all of his problems fluttered away. TJ had never looked so nice, and his stomach twisted at the sight of him. 

“We have a problem. My mom wont let us go on my moped, so either we ride with her or we don’t go at all.” TJ said, defeated. “Also she’s making Amber go with us.”

Cyrus grinned. He really didn’t mind. The world could be falling apart and he’d just be glad to hang out with TJ.

The car ride there was short, but in that time Kate had managed to embarrass TJ a countless amount of times while Amber blasted Brittany Spears, claiming god is a woman. Cyrus decided he liked her. Her lip gloss shimmered in the street lights as they passed each one. 

Finally, after they arrived at the Red Rooster, the Kippens’ mother blew kisses and sped off. Amber skipped ahead of the boys, and they walked in side by side. Inside, the room was a crowded and there were no seats, just standing room. The venue felt nearly ten degrees warmer than it was outside, but Cyrus didn’t want to rule out the possibility that he was just flushing because of how close TJ was standing. 

Amber seemed to be getting into the opening acts, bouncing with the rest of the crowd, and making fast friends with some older boys and girls around her who adopted Amber as one of their own. 

“This is their first show,” Cyrus leaned over to TJ, practically shouting over the bass. “They’ve been posting covers online, so they already have a following, but Jonah isn’t the world’s best song writer.” 

TJ was practically glowing in the lights. He threw his around Cyrus’ shoulder and pulled him closer. “Maybe I’ll write a song for them.” 

“About what?” 

He thought about it for a moment, before coming up with an answer. “You?” He yelled it over the drums. Cyrus’ usually didn’t like loud noises, but for the first time he was grateful for the beating of the drums to disguise the heavy thumping of his heart. 

Soon, the October Otters appeared on stage, all wearing coordinating outfits and Cyrus was glad for the sudden distraction. Buffy counted them in by slamming her drumsticks together in a count of four. As soon as she finished, the room erupted in noise. The room started bouncing and Jonah entered in, shredding his guitar. The other instruments joined after a few seconds, Andi and Walker singing backup for Jonah. 

Watching Jonah play on stage made his chest ache. He didn’t like Jonah anymore, but he still knew that nostalgic ache of wishing he’d told him about how he felt. Jonah’s forehead beaded with sweat in the purple lighting. He loved the stage, and the stage loved him.  
Buffy bounced wildly on her seat, wacking her drumset as if she had a personal vendetta against it, righting it’s wrongs by sheer force. 

Walker focused on his picking pattern, his long fingers dancing between strings. He bounced in time to the drums. He looked good on stage, like he was meant to be standing in front of people, commanding an audience to look at him. His curls caught the light and his eyes shimmered back. At one point, he flashed a smile and a group of girls, and a few boys sprinkled here and there, went nuts. 

Andi slammed her fingers on her keyboard like it was the last thing she’d do, bouncing on her toes slightly. She practically ate her mic with how passionately she sang into it, but Cyrus admired her drive. She’d slicked her cropped hair back with a gallon of glitter gel that caught every flash of a phone, stage light, and exit sign.

Cyrus turned his attention to TJ, who was already looking back at him. He smiled slowly, not breaking eye contact and Cyrus was suddenly all too aware of himself. 

“Alright guys, we’re gonna play a slow song now, so grab someone and hold em tight.” Jonah announced from on stage, his voice soft as butter. 

TJ and Cyrus stepped apart and stared at each other for far too long. Someone tapped Cyrus’ shoulder and he turned. A girl from Amber’s new group of friends smiled sweetly. “Wanna dance?” 

Cyrus gulped, but agreed, carefully taking her waist and being careful not to stare in her eyes for too long. 

“What’s your name?” The girl asked, chestnut eyes and long brown curls tumbled over her shoulder. 

“Cyrus,” He replied weakly, looking everywhere but her face. 

She giggled. “Our names rhyme. I’m Iris.” 

Cyrus smiled at that, warming up to her a little. He loved a good rhyme. 

“Are you here with someone?” She asked curiously. Cyrus turned to look over his shoulder. TJ was standing alone. 

“Not really.” Cyrus answered, and Iris replied with a sly look.

“You sure?” 

“I mean,” Cyrus started. “I am, but it’s not a date or anything.” 

Iris laughed and hugged him suddenly, whispering something in his ear quickly. “I’m not so sure he knows that.” 

She slipped away from him and in the same second another tap beat on his shoulder. TJ. He smiled close lipped, eyes bright. “Follow me,” He said. And Cyrus did. 

TJ lead Cyrus back to the service stairs and they climbed them until they came out of a door which lead to a small storage balcony packed to the brim with old guitars and drum kits. The balcony overlooked the stage where the band was playing below them, playing their second slow song. 

“I would ask you to dance, but I can’t.” TJ said, bumping Cyrus’ shoulder as they leaned over the railing. 

Cyrus laughed softly, hands shaking. “I can’t either.” 

“We could try.” TJ suggested after a long moment, stepping away from the railing and facing Cyrus. The smaller boy turned carefully too, stepping closer, holding his breath. TJ held out his hand, and Cyrus grabbed it, suddenly steady. It felt right, like the stars were aligning.   
TJ smiled, and let out a breath as the two of them swayed gently, tripping once or twice. Eventually, they were dancing like the stars, and their closeness was no longer daunting. Instead, Cyrus leaned into it. Into him. He smelled like lemon and linen, and Cyrus breathed him in. 

When the song ended, Cyrus was almost afraid to pull away. Afraid to face TJ, afraid to face his feelings.

TJ opened his mouth to say something when tech crew member popped his head through the door. “Times up, dude. Get outta here.” He snapped. TJ went beat red, but Cyrus pretended he hadn’t seen. 

Cyrus watched TJ as he went, lingering for a second. His hands buzzed from where TJ had touched them and his head was foggy, as if someone had shoved cotton candy into his brain. If he wasn’t sure before, he was sure now. 

Cyrus Goodman had a crush on the boy across the street.


	4. The New Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting themselves into big trouble, Cyrus and TJ are given a new set of rules, which causes division and creates a new issue in which Cyrus decides he needs to resolve.

The days that followed were nothing short of exciting in every second. Cyrus felt as if he’d been reborn into a world that flipped upside down from his own. His shoulders weren’t tense anymore, and he suddenly had all the energy in the world. He’d stay up all hours of the night talking to TJ via walkie talkies while they’d make funny faces at each other from the window.

It was nearly 3am, and Cyrus was still wide awake, sitting propped up by his window, cozied up in his dinosaur pajamas. 

“Getting tired yet, Goodman?” TJ teased, the crackle of static following.

Cyrus’ heart swam. “In your dreams, Kippen.” He replied, his cheeks growing suddenly warm. 

“I think you mean in your dreams, you know, because you’re about to fall asleep.” 

Cyrus didn’t have a reply. Instead he sank his face into his curtains, in vein attempt to wash away the heat. 

“Cy, I just got a text from Reed.” TJ crackled. Well that worked, Cyrus thought, because all of a sudden his chest wasn’t flipping. “He wants to meet up right now.”

Cyrus popped up through his window, facing TJ. “Doesn’t that sound a little weird to you? Like it’s the worst possible idea ever?” 

“Dude,” TJ said into the device. “This is Reed we’re talking about. He’s always weird. Get ready, b’cause we’re leaving in five.” 

Cyrus gulped, looking at his clock. Maybe TJ was right. All Reed had been lately, was really good. He hadn’t bullied Gus, or anyone else, he let Cyrus sit with him at lunch, he helped a couple kids with their homework, which thinking back, Cyrus assumed it was most likely just cheating. 

Giving in, he slid on a pair of real clothes and tiptoed down the steps and onto the lawn where he waited for TJ to appear. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, but not because of TJ. Cyrus had snuck out of his house a total of three times, since he’d met TJ on Monday, and it was only Friday. 

TJ wheeled out, and Cyrus climbed on behind him. It was natural to him, now. He didn’t worry about hugging too tight, or feeling awkward. His hands found TJ’s waist like imprints of his arms had been carved into his stomach.

“Let’s rock n roll,” TJ whispered to himself as he went off, Cyrus leaning his chin into the other boy’s shoulder. 

The world passing by seemed like it belonged to them. They were the kings and planet earth was their palace, street lights like torches raised to their dignified reign. They painted the city in the colors they chose, and the people would one day see Cyrus the way TJ did, strong and brave, loyal and worthy to be seen. Cyrus appreciated TJ in a way that was beyond comprehensible words. He saw wonderment and the avant-garde in him, like nobody else ever had. TJ somehow made Cyrus leave behind his caution and uncover his capriciousness and he was unconditionally grateful. 

When TJ stopped and climbed off the bike, Cyrus could barely see anything until his eyes adjusted. Soon he discovered they stood in the mouth of a big, foul smelling alleyway. 

“What are doing here, TJ?” Cyrus whispered, grabbing his sleeve nervously.

TJ shook his head, sucking in a deep breath. “No idea. Said it was urgent.” 

Cyrus gulped, “Doesn’t look urgent to me. It looks like an alleyway.”

From the opposite end of the alley, Reed peaked his head around the corner and waved them over. Cyrus and TJ looked at each other before following after him their shoes echoing on the concrete. 

When the two of them rounded the corner, Cyrus’ heart stopped. Reed and two other boys were spray painting the front of a building with big fat letters, spelling out their hatred of the less fortunate people of the city. They were laughing while playing less than respectful music, their words continuing into a brand new set of vocabulary words that Cyrus wasn’t even sure he knew. 

“What the hell are you doing man?” TJ said, after reading their artwork. He knocked the spray can out of Reed’s hand and shoved him back. 

“Dude,” Reed said, stumbling. “We thought you guys were cool.” He liked his lips angrily, “But I guess we were wrong, huh.” 

“You said we were hanging out.” TJ shook his head in betrayal, stepping forward towards Reed, towering over him. 

“Well what the fuck does it look like we’re doing?” 

TJ laughed, anger boiling in his voice, and Cyrus stepped forward, ready to break them apart, when one of Reed’s goons grabbed his collar and swung him around. 

“Hey, keep your hands off him.” TJ called, and without a second thought, his fist flew into the boys face, knocking him over. Within the span of seconds, boys were kicking, hitting and punching each other, yells flying, words being aggressively exchanged. Cyrus stepped away from the group, his heart racing. TJ was on the floor, practically getting his head kicked in, three against one. 

“Stop!” Cyrus screamed, his voice cracking. “Please!” 

Suddenly, sirens began to blare and a police car peeled down the alley.

“Rat on us, Goodman, and you’re both fuckin’ dead.” Reed said frantically as he and his friends picked themselves up and shoved passed Cyrus. 

Cyrus quickly slid over to TJ, and helped him up from the ground, his eye puffy and his lip sliced.  
“Step away from the paint cans and put your hands up.” The cop shouted over his flashlight. TJ and Cyrus looked at each other. All TJ could get out was a broken ‘I’m sorry’. 

\---

After being called back to the station, the boys’ mothers’ arrived to pick them up. TJ’s mother arrived in a hurricane of yells and crying. Cyrus’ mother came silently, icy and distant. She didn’t say a word. The ride home was equally as silent. Cyrus cried softly, his headache against the chilly glass of the car window. The street lights were no longer torches raised to his dignified reign. They were simply street lights, dimly lighting the suburban neighborhood where he lived.

Cyrus’ mother put him to bed, and the next morning, woke him with a cup of tea and a piece of paper. Cyrus sat up and rubbed his eyes confusedly, his headache droning on in the background of his thoughts. 

“Morning, Cyrus.” Leslie said, sitting at the foot of his bed. She usually greeted him with a goodmorning and a kiss on the forehead, but that morning she refrained. 

Cyrus looked around, remembering the previous night, stomach sinking. “Can I go see if TJ’s okay?” He asked suddenly, the image of his beaten up face flashing in his mind. 

Leslie sighed, folding her hands over her knees. “That’s what I came in here to talk about,” 

Stomach dropping, Cyrus sat up straight. “Is he okay?” 

“He’s just fine.” His mother said flatly. “I’m going to tell you a story, and you’re going to drink your tea and listen.” 

Confused, Cyrus nodded, grasping the warm mug in his hands. 

“When I was your age, I had a friend named Marcus. I thought Marcus was the most amazing thing ever. He showed me music I’d never heard, places I never knew existed. He showed me the world from his painting palette, and I was never the same. I got into bad things, I met bad people, and I went down the wrong path. I got addicted to the feeling of rarity and the charisma of life.  
One day, I realized the people around me were hurting from decisions I’d made. I knew I had to let him go. It was like I was sawing through my own heart.” She smiled sadly into the distance. “I want you to let go before you have to saw your own heart in half.” 

“What do you mean?” Cyrus asked, welling. 

“Starting today, you and TJ will not be allowed to see each other. Kate and I believe it’s best for the both of you.” 

Cyrus stood up, slamming his tea onto his desk. “No! That’s so unfair. TJ would never hurt me, or get me to do bad things. Last night wasn’t him and you know it!” 

“Cyrus,” Leslie said calmly, with a firm diction to it. “Do you think I’m an idiot? I know you’ve snuck out three nights this week. I know you stay up until three in the morning every night. All your life you’ve made it a personal goal to get all A’s, and you know I don’t care about grades, but you got a C in your math test this week.” 

Cyrus didn’t say anything, he knew he’d cry if he did. 

“Honey, if TJ really cares about you, he wouldn’t be putting you in harms way. That’s not what love is. So, from here on out, you won’t be speaking with him over walkie talkie, no texting or phone calls, and no hanging out, before or after school.” 

He didn’t care anymore. He let his tears fall. Maybe she’d change her mind if she saw how torn up he really was. 

“You’re going to join a school club, and find a hobby. Make some new friends, and find some new people you click with while your other friends are getting ready for Battle of the Bands.” 

Cyrus whirled around grabbing his shoes and jacket. Leslie laughed. “You’re grounded until Monday. You’re not leaving this house until then. If you want friends over, fine, but you’re staying put. Two days isn’t torture.” 

Cyrus, almost bursting with emotion didn’t know what to do. He yelled at his mother, face flooding with tears. “Get out of my room!” He roared, turning to yank open the curtains. The window across the street was locked, blinds newly installed, curtains drawn. 

Hours later, Cyrus’ face still buried in his pillow, a knock sounded on his bedroom door. “Go away mom,” He said through a muffled facefull of pillowcase.

The door creaked open and footsteps tiptoed to his bedside. “Not mom,” A soft voice, which he knew belonged to Buffy, said. She rolled on top of him, enveloping him in a big bear hug. A second pair of arms found him. Andi. 

Cyrus sat up, embarrassed from his tears. “Hey guys,” He slumped over, leaning on Andi’s shoulder, taking Buffy’s hand. “I’m being over dramatic, aren’t I?” 

Buffy giggled. “Maybe just a teeny weeny bit.” 

“I just feel so, I don’t know, present, when I’m hanging out with him. With everyone else, I feel invisible, and unimportant.” He looked over his shoulder to the window. 

Andi sighed. “You know that isn’t the case, Cyrus. We love you so much.” 

Cyrus pushed off from the bed, ignoring Andi’s statement. He stood up and began pacing. “I’ve gotta fix this. This is totally unfair, its injustice! He did nothing wrong, and I won't stand for this tyranny.” Cyrus shouted, as if he was giving an important speech. 

Buffy and Andi looked at each other with knowing smiles.  
Cyrus pulled out his colored coordinated glitter pens and a pad of plain paper and set to work out a plan. 

\---

The next morning Cyrus waited outside for Jonah as per usual. Across the street, the garage door opened, and Cyrus jumped. At least he’d be able to see TJ and hang out with him before and during school. But TJ didn’t emerge. Instead, the car rolled out, and from the opened car window, Cyrus caught a glimpse of TJ in the side mirrors. He looked distraught, his forehead creased into lines of worry and frustration. Cyrus’ stomach ached. It really was the end, huh?

Jonah approached Cyrus, his face falling as soon as he captured a glimpse of him. “What’s up, man? You look terrible.”

Cyrus huffed out a frustrated laugh. “Thanks, Jo.” He drawled sarcastically. “I got in trouble with the police this weekend, so I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of TJ anymore either.” 

“Woah, dude,” Jonah breathed out, shaking his head lightly. “TJ’s in jail? I always knew that guy was a bad influence but...” The two boys began their trek to school. 

“He’s not in jail, Jonah, we’re just not allowed to hang out anymore.” Cyrus kicked up a rock and it clattered on the sidewalk. 

“Dude, that totally sucks. He’s sick, and not the good kind.” 

Cyrus shook his head, clenching his backpack straps in his palms. “It just not fair. Imagine if you were just suddenly not allowed to hang out with, I dunno, Walker.”

Jonah furrowed his brow and a breath hitched. “That’s different,” Jonah muttered softly. 

Cyrus scanned his friend’s face, and knowingly nodded. “I’m not so sure it is.” 

A sad smile quirked at the side of Jonah’s mouth as he tossed his arm around Cyrus’ shoulder and nuzzled his head against the other’s. “You’ll figure this out, Cy.” 

“I sure hope so,” Cyrus sighed before he and Jonah parted ways. 

A moment later, Cyrus spotted TJ talking to one of his basketball friends. He started to walk over to approach him, but as soon as TJ saw him, he turned away, walking in the opposite direction with his friend. Confused and hurt, Cyrus sank. Great, he thought, now he was avoiding him. His mother had probably ruined everything. He knew her intentions were pure, but he boiled inwardly. 

Cyrus hadn’t realized he’d been staring until Buffy and Andi swooped him up, towing Walker and Marty behind them. The two girls looped their arms through his and guided him in the direction to their first class. Cyrus was grateful to never be left alone in his classes. He had Buffy and Andi sitting beside him in first period English, Marty took Spanish with him in second period. Third period was biology with Jonah and Andi, History with Buffy and Walker, Math with TJ and Buffy and so on. 

As they lead him to class, Cyrus passed TJ, and with Buffy and Andi by his side, they slid by with their heads held high, arms interlocked. Cyrus’ stomach turned anyway. He wasn’t good at being petty, though his best friends were connoisseurs of the art. The day continued to drag on and on, as if it had taken place and whole new realm of time. Every time he passed TJ, his friends would force him in the opposite direction, and everytime he was without them, TJ seemed to avoid him just as equally. 

Every passing day was the same. He’d walk to school with Jonah, see TJ, who would ultimately see him, and turn away. His friends would wrestle him through the halls and force his eyes away at lunch. He’d go home, look out the window to see the mirroring one closed tight, and no matter where he looked, he couldn’t find where his mother had hidden his walkie talkie. 

The Sunday of that heart achingly long week, Cyrus paced his bedroom floors until he’d practically dug a ditch. Picking at his fingernails and focusing his breath, he finally decided to do what needed to be done. He grabbed the folded up piece of paper on his desk and shoved it in his back pocket.

Cyrus peaked out his door, ready to leave, but his mother and stepfather were sitting right on the couch watching a scary movie. Knowing they’d have to watch a second, more light hearted movie afterwards, both of them would be staying up for hours. Cyrus decided to use another method. 

Heart racing, he pushed away his anxieties in his urgency and shimmied out of his window, climbing down tree limbs and roofs until he was close enough to jump to the ground, which, instead of leaping to the ground gracefully as he’d previously planned, he fell flat on his face. Brushing himself off, he ran across the street and did his best to climb up to TJ’s window, slipping a couple times. He wiggled out onto a thick limb and hopped onto the sloping roof that lead to the windowsill. 

Cyrus closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, and with a thundering chest, he knocked lightly on the window. Within a minute, the glass panes slipped opened. 

TJ peaked out through the curtains, confusion painted brightly across his eyes, a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips. His hair was messy and he was wearing his glasses. Cyrus tried not to sway too much, in fear of diving straight off the roof. 

After finally registering, TJ practically pulled Cyrus through the window and pushed him into his desk chair. “What the hell are you doing here, man?” He whispered harshly, shuffling over to lock his door. 

Cyrus stood up, frustrated. “I needed to see you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. That...we are okay.” Cyrus studied TJ’s face. The cut on his lip was still visible, but he looked okay other than that. Better than okay, Cyrus thought. Just looking at him his stomach do backflips and twists and front walkovers and every other kind of gymnastics too. 

TJ drug his hands over his face, clearly distraught. “You realize, you coming here is just making things worse. If we just let things blow over, it’ll all be okay in a month.”

Cyrus stepped closer. “It won’t. I know my mother and if she thinks I’m in danger in anyway, she won’t relent.” 

TJ, inched forward as well. “Then that’s just what’s going to have to happen. Your friends and your mother and your goodie-two-shoes guilty conscience will tell you to stay away from me, and you will. And I’ll go on, pretending not to see you in the halls, or in math class. And when you pass me at lunch, you won’t exist, and neither will I.” 

“TJ,” Cyrus sighed. 

TJ shook his head, jaw tightening. “It’s what’s best. You shouldn’t hang out with people like me. They’re all right, Cyrus.” Cyrus noted how softly his name tumbled from TJ’s mouth.

“But I want to.” Cyrus said, searching TJ’s eyes, unafraid of what he might uncover. “What’s best for me, is you. You’ve given me more than anyone else ever has, you’ve shown me what the world can really be. And I won’t go down without a fight.” 

TJ softened, a twinkle blossoming in his eye. “So what do you suggest, Goodman?” 

Cyrus shrugged, “Did I tell you my mother wants me to join a school club to avoid you?” 

TJ smiled, catching on. “I suppose now that I can’t hang out with my best friend, I need something to fill my time, and my mother wouldn’t be opposed to me focusing my energy on something involving school and my community.” 

Grinning, Cyrus reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. Written neatly in glitter pen, was an organized (alphabetically, of course) list of every school club that Jefferson Middle had to offer.


End file.
